In The End and The Secrets We Keep
by Kenta Divina
Summary: Now a series of one-shots. Misao has been happy single. She still has friends to party with, except when they all go out on dates at the same time. In the end she finds what she's after. Aoshi has been watching Misao. They both have a silent history.
1. In The End

Author's Note: More insubstantial writing – I work in an office now, so I just had this come to me. Self-insertion? Maaaaby. J Aoshi isn't quite the same, but I hope the ending result is satisfactory.

In The End

Staring at the computer like she had for the last four hours, Misao sighed. She had made a bet with herself that she would not keep staring at the clock until someone passed her on their way home. She would not be a clock-watcher. She would not.

_Drat, twenty minutes._

"Arg!"

"Misao, anything wrong?" Omasu paused as she passed by the young woman's desk at the insurance company where they worked.

Misao smiled at her supervisor. "Oh, I'm fine. Just did something stupid and I have to go back and fix it."

Omasu glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, why don't you fix it and then head home. I don't think anything will happen in the last ten minutes of a Friday."

Misao beamed. "Thank you Omasu-san!" She quickly saved the changes she had made to the company data tables and turned off the computer.

Omasu blinked at her speed before teasing, "So do you have a date tonight?"

"Um, no, but I have some plans to possibly get one in the future." Misao scooped up her purse. "See you on Monday!"

Stepping out the door, she pulled out her cell phone and speed dialed. "Kaoru, hey, I'm done and on my way! Do you want me to pick up anything?"

Kaoru, her apartment mate, checked the fridge. "We're running low on milk and eggs. You know that they're not healthy if you eat so many at once."

Misao sighed, "I only eat one a morning! On a piece of whole-wheat bread!"

"Well, we're running low on that too."

"Right, well they're a store real near here. I'll grab it. Whatcha doing tonight?"

"Well, Kenshin asked me out on a date. We're going to that new restaurant downtown."

"Need any help getting ready?"

Kaoru sounded faintly regretful. "Actually, I'm headed out the door. We're catching an early dinner, and then a movie."

Misao smiled. "Well, I won't wait up for you."

"Call up Megumi."

"She gets off work in, what, an hour?"

"Think so! Gotta run!"

"Right – be good!"

Misao hung up her phone and briskly walked down the sidewalk. Tugging at her pin-striped shirt, she found the ReadyFood store and entered.

"So we need eggs, bread, milk, and. ice cream!"

"Misao?"

She turned and smiled up at the tall figure walking down the frozen food aisle. "Hi Aoshi-sama! What are you doing here? I thought you had a store to run."

Aoshi Shinomori, self-made businessman in books, held up a large bottle of ready-made green tea. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt neatly tucked in a pair of black jeans while a set of gold-rimmed glasses hung from a breast pocket. "Ran out of refreshments. You look like you ran out of refreshment yourself."

She looked down at the chocolate ice cream in her hands. "Well, I ate the last of it last night. I think it was supposed to be Kaoru's, so I felt guilty."

The two made their way to the checkout lines before Aoshi gave her a small wave. Misao smiled half-witsfully. He was such a good-looking man, but for the three years she had known him, he had never dated anyone. At least that's what Kaoru's boyfriend had said.

Reaching her apartment a half-hour later by the metro, she unlocked her door and began putting away the food. Flipping out her phone, she dialed Megumi.

The doctor's professional voice answered, "Doctor Megumi Takani speaking."

"Hey Meg!"

The other sighed. "Misao, why do you keep doing that?"

"Because no one else has the guts to. Whacha doing tonight?"

"I work late, and then Sanosuke has offered to take me out to dinner."

"Oh" Misao forced the disappointment to stay out of her voice. "I was going to offer some chocolate ice cream."

"Kaoru's going out too, isn't she."

Misao wrinkled her nose at her friend's perceptiveness. "Yes, but no biggie. I'll just go check out The Strip."

"Well don't stay out late. You know those places get reputations."

"Well one of them is going to be me!"

"Sure, Misao. Have fun!"

"You too!" Misao hung up with a sigh.

Later that night she was storming down the sidewalk as best she could with a dress sandal dangling strapless from her foot and feeling the darker side of her social status.

_The world is full of stupid people. Everyone knows it. _

Misao growled to herself. All she had wanted to do was go to a club, cut loose and have some fun after a particularly hard week at work. Poor Misao was left out of the couple's loop. It wasn't the first time. She didn't hold anything against Kaoru or Megumi - their partners were great guys, and most of the time she felt completely at home as one of the gang. This was just bad timing.

But then the bouncer at the door wouldn't let her in. Dressed up in a shimmering purple, spaghetti-strap shirt and black pants that were just shy of being capri, she had taken extra care with her makeup in hopes of making her look her actual age of twenty-three. She had shown the man her I.D. but he had looked at it and called it a fake. Not such a big deal, she walked a few blocks away to another club and had the same thing happen. Angrily she had asked to see the club manager, some man named Shishio. He had stood in the doorway, cigarette in hand, and smirked.

"Well, she looks like a fake even if the I.D. isn't."

Before she could think of a proper comeback, the heavy metal door had been slammed shut. Infuriated, she kicked the door repeatedly with her high heeled sandals until the strap broke. No one answered. Fighting back tears, she made her way back towards her apartment. Halfway there, she had an idea. Aoshi Shinomori worked late at his bookstore, but he had a nice bottle of vodka that the group had given him a year ago as a joke. The man never drank. With a determined toss of her head, Misao changed directions.

With a smile at the doorman and an edited explanation of her bad night, the landlord let her into her friend's apartment. He knew her from her frequent visits with 'the gang'. With a word of thanks, she shut the door and went on a hunt to supply her personal club. Aoshi had quite a nice place, for being a bachelor most of his life. Everything was neat, tasteful, and comfortable. The particular pride and joy of the room was the long, sea foam green couch. Misao grabbed a bottle of orange juice out of the fridge, the vodka from the back of the kitchen cabinet, kicked off her wounded shoes and settled in with the television.

Two hours later she was sufficiently drunk.

Even though she felt the alcohol lacing through her body, she stubbornly took one last shot, coughing as it went down. Sulking, she scrunched her slouch deeper into the pillows. The television was slowly going out of focus, and she waved the controller at it.

_Well, it's not that interesting anyway_. She mused. Her head felt so heavy, but she wasn't tired. Not... perhaps if she rested her head...

Aoshi Shinomori returned at about a quarter to twelve. The landlord had been snoring at his desk, so he let himself in. Habitually flipping the light switch, he paused at the sight of a body, half buried in the couch. He immediately knew who it was by the long braid dangling over the edge of the seat cushion. The figure squirmed, jamming knees and elbows deeper into the seam between the padding of the seat and the back.

"Misao?"

He walked over, noting the half-empty bottles of orange juice and vodka. Shaking his head as he sat down next to her, he touched her shoulder. "Misao, what have you been doing?"

She brushed him off with an incomprehensible mutter before squirming her body into the corner of the armrest. It did not look the most comfortable. Aoshi couldn't help but smile at the picture. He gently drew her towards the center of the couch, trying to get her to relax. Instead of accepting his actions, she began squirming away with a sleepy whine.

"No... it's cold... I'm cold... leave me alone..."

Aoshi pulled her back, amused. "Of course you're cold, dressed in pants and a shirt like that and drinking. You need a proper bed."

He maneuvered her limp body so that her head rested on his shoulder while he untangled her legs from the pillows she had burrowed under. Unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed her cheek against his chest, with a small contented noise. He froze, unsure of her actions.

"Mmm, Aoshi-sama, you're warm."

She began squirming again, sliding down his chest till her shoulders rested against his thigh and her head was in his lap. Arms still half-around his waist, she rested her flushed face on his hip and promptly fell back asleep. Her body began curling up on itself, toes digging back into the cushions. He looked ruefully down at her.

"You're part cat, you know that?"

Kicking off his shoes and taking off his belt, he stretched out on the couch next to her.

Misao woke feeling almost completely cozy, except that her left shoulder was cold. She shifted to try and find something to cover it with and heard another movement. Too content to wonder, she reached over to pull whatever was generating such pleasant heat closer to warm her up. She felt something give, and drew it over her. It wasn't wide enough, but it at least was covering her bare arm. Stretching her legs, she found them tangled with another pair.

_Four legs? _

There was another sound of movement, followed by a groan and Misao found herself sandwiched between a sleeping Aoshi and the back of his comfy couch, tucked snuggly under his left arm. She stiffened, instantly awake. Clenching her hands which were tucked against her chest, she cautiously tilted her head up to look at his face. He still slept. Letting her initial panic ebb away, she smiled. The arm that she had unconsciously placed around her decided it liked that idea. Aoshi turned on his side and drew Misao up against him so that her head settled just beneath his chin. His fingers began stroking her back just between her shoulders and she couldn't help but sigh. The fingers paused.

Misao looked up into half-opened blue eyes. For a moment they merely stared at one another, unmoving. Then Aoshi broke the silence.

"Good morning."

Misao gave him a small smile. "Good morning."

"So, do you want to tell me what had you so upset last night?"

She glanced past him at the containers still on the coffee table and groaned. Ducking her head, she answered, "It was stupid really. I shouldn't have..."

"What was it?"

Blushing, she avoided his eyes. "I was mad because no one ever believes that I'm as old as I say I am. It happens all the time, and usually it doesn't bother me, but yesterday... yesterday was just bad."

"And you decided to break into my home and get drunk to make up for it?"

She sighed, "Stupid, I know, but I just wanted to get something out of all my effort. I mean, I dressed up and everything." She frowned. "I didn't break in, I was let in by Okina."

"Mmm..." Misao couldn't help noticing how his chest vibrated when he spoke. "Well, why did you come here?"

"Kaoru and Kenshin and Megumi and Sano were all out doing their own thing. I was on my own... and then I couldn't get into the club, then I broke my sandal, and I was just so mad. I knew that you wouldn't mind... at least, I hoped you wouldn't."

His hand had continued its stroking in the middle of her justification, making her eyes want to fall shut again.

"It's not every night I get to be a personal heater for a girl."

Misao laughed and used the comment as an excuse to wrap her arm around his waist. With a quick stretch, she resettled herself in his grasp and yawned, "I'm not a girl, I'm a woman."

"Sure, sure..."

At his dismissing tone, she reared up and glared. "What!"

He blinked. "Girl, woman, female race, whatever."

"You sound so chauvinistic about it! I'm a woman - more mature than a girl."

The side of Aoshi's mouth twitched. "You're making yourself sound like a pouty little girl. Can you prove it?"

The challenge resparked her anger from the night before. Misao wrinkled her nose. "Sure!"

"How?"

Temporarily stumped, she looked down at him, his usually well combed hair mussed about his face. Blue eyes were calculating her reaction, and she rose to answer. An idea popped into her head, one that if she had paused to fully consider, would have immediately been dismissed on grounds of having too many consequences. Instead, she acted.

"Like this!"

She dipped down and pressed her mouth to his. That was it - a kiss. The sensation was odd so she tried to change it... still not quite right... not what she expected...

_What were you thinking Misao! This is stupid - so incredibly_...

Aoshi's mouth moved against hers, his head tilted, and then the kiss transformed. His hand came up to catch the back of her neck, holding her there while his lips explored her own, not that she could bring herself to pull away. She wasn't cold anymore, just the opposite. She felt his arm around her waist, drawing her up, and then he turned, tucking her back against the couch. The cushions gave under their combined weight. Aoshi didn't stop until they both had to find better ways to get air into their lungs. Slightly bewildered at the sudden change in their relationship, Misao merely looked up at his lightly flushed face. He smiled, a full, honest smile.

"I'm convinced."

Her mouth opened but she couldn't get anything out. He smiled again, dropping a another kiss onto her parted lips which turned into a second thought-numbing experience.

Misao finally managed to gather her common sense and sat up. Avoiding his confused gaze, she ran a hand over her now hopelessly messy braid. "Aoshi-sama. I can't do this if it means nothing to you."

"Why would it mean nothing to me?" He sat up along side her.

She sighed as she screwed the top back on the vodka. "I mean, you're a spectacular guy... and I do like you, but, to be honest, I've always though you beyond my reach."

He tried to take her hand, but she drew back. He frowned. "Why do you think that?"

"Cause, you're the kind of guy who would out with women like Megumi, or someone classy. Not the friend who acts like a kid half the time. Maybe it's justified that people keep assuming I'm seventeen."

"Misao,"

She had to look up at her name. Aoshi was observing her with a very strange light in his eyes. Uncertainly she shrugged. "Well, it's true isn't it?"

"Misao, don't ever degrade yourself like that. You're special in your own right. You don't even compare to any other woman."

"But you -"

"Have liked you for a very long time."

Misao stared wide-eyed at him. "What?"

This time Aoshi sighed. "I would have thought that pretty obvious by now. I don't kiss women twice in two minutes if I don't have a long-standing reason to."

"But... Why?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Fidgeting with her glass, she muttered, "I never thought you would like me. Friends, sure, but not more."

Aoshi took her by the hand and gently pulled until she was sitting comfortably on his lap. Meeting her solemn gaze, he placed a butterfly kiss on her nose. "There is more, if you care to try it. Why wouldn't I like you?"

"Because," She paused as he began to lightly nibble her neck. "I'm such a little girl."

"And here you've been trying to prove you're a woman."

She mockingly shoved him back before shifting her seating position on his lap. Knees digging into the pillows on either side of his legs, she faced him. "I am one! But some think otherwise."

Aoshi smiled.

Hours later a knock on the door was rudely followed by a spiky brown head. Sano looked around the living room and called out, "Yo! You forget about our lunch?"

Aoshi appeared in his bedroom doorway, pulling on a newly pressed shirt. There was a noise from the bathroom, and Misao stepped out, hair unbraided. Sano blinked.

"Hey Sano! How was your date?"

"Great, weasel. But what are you doing here?"

She glared. "Quite calling me that! And it's none of your business!"

Aoshi broke in. "Sano, I'm running a little late. Could you meet me there?"

"Sure." Sano shrugged and did a double take at the coffee table. "Hey man, I thought you didn't drink."

Aoshi took him by the arm and pushed him back out the door. "I don't."

Misao grinned from where she stood in the bathroom doorway. "There's going to be some explaining to do later on."

"In the end it'll all turn out fine."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because both Kenshin and Sano have been pushing to me to make us into a trio of couples."

"And they never said anything to me?"

Aoshi finished buttoning his shirt and gave her a peck on the forehead. "Don't pout."

"What? There you go again!"

Before she could go into another rant about being patronized, he had pressed her against the doorframe and stolen the words right out of her mouth. When he straightened, she blinked up at him and then frowned.

"What's wrong?"

She poked him in the stomach. "You better not think that kissing will get you out of trouble either."

Unable to help himself, Aoshi began to laugh.

The End.

Author's Note:

Blah. not very good. But at least I got something going. My creative juices have been rather dry lately.


	2. The Secrets We Keep

Author's note: I'm trying to get my creativeness back. So here's another AU bite. It snowballed after a while, but I decided to try from Aoshi's POV for a change. Let me know how it goes.

The Secrets We Keep

The spring rain drizzled off of the eves of a small yellow house among other small houses of a Southern city suburb. A man wearing an un-tucked and wrinkled white shirt stood in the doorway. His hands were shoved into worn jean pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, his back to the unlit space behind him. The early morning light was dim, but the damp air created a waking atmosphere. The atmosphere was given greater context by the groan rising from a gray couch.

"Morning lazybones!"

Bleary blue eyes appeared over the back of the couch. They tried to focus on the man who faced the dripping world beyond. Delicate fingers pushed back a wave of long black hair.

"Aoshi, it's six in the morning. How is that being lazy?"

The man finally turned to give the woman a small smile. "You fell asleep much earlier than usual, Misao. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet."

The woman blinked but offered no explanation. Instead, she gave a tremendous yawn. He couldn't help but smile at that – always so free spirited, even at this unpractical hour. Even, his smile faded, among friends. Perhaps it was strange that he considered her ever-shining personality a bit off. Most people believe it was how she was, no matter what the situation. Yet in the five years that he'd known her, he sensed something dark that drove that ever-cheerful face onward.

He pushed off of the doorjamb and took a few steps into his living room. He restrained himself from laughing when Misao vigorously rubbed her face in an effort to fully wake. Despite his suspicions that his friend was much more complicated than she let on, he did enjoy her lively company. Aoshi silently watched her straighten the pale blue t-shirt over her stomach. When she stood up to stretch, he could see the red pressure marks of her jeans on the skin of her waist. He forced his eyes away.

It was two years ago that he noticed a pattern. She would appear on his doorstep without warning, or would wait for him on the porch if he were making an errand. Her hands would be full of snacks, homemade cookies, and a few bottles of beer. He knew for a fact that she didn't even like the stuff. But without question he would offer his living room, and she'd enter with a smile. They'd stay up late, talking or watching TV. He would tease her, and she would smoothly return the favor. They would usually sit on the floor, cross-legged with their backs to the couch and talk about the latest girlfriend of Sano's or the newest argument between Kenshin and Kaoru. They would talk, casually brush hands, bump knees, and dance with words till the next morning. Then she would pack up, wash whatever dishes they had used, and vanish for a few days or a week.

It happened every month during the spring. This season was no exception. Aoshi had been in the middle of washing his dinner plate when she had knocked at the back door.

"Hey there!" She had chirped with her arms full of a paper bag. "It looks like rain. Mind if I come in?"

He had smiled, taking the bag from her. "The television said possible showers all night."

She had smiled back, but a shadow in her eyes reinforced his suspicions that her visits were more than simply casual tradition.

They had settled down into their usual routine.

Only in the spring would she bring alcohol. Not enough for her to pass out, but just enough to make her red-faced and sleepy. He was a bit of a lightweight, but could still handle twice the amount that it took to get her to that point. Aoshi had to admit that her behavior became even more childish under the influence, resulting in pouts when she lost some small bout of arguing and found revenge in the strangest ways – like finishing his beer when his back was turned, or messing his hair with an evil laugh.

Last night had been the same. She had set the beers on the coffee table with small clinks of glass before tearing open a bag of her favorite ranch-flavored potato chips. They had argued over a movie (the choice of which was decided with a game of rock, paper, scissors) and halfway through the film, Aoshi had looked over to find her sound asleep on the couch, one hand slipping dangerously from the neck of her bottle. He had taken the beer and thrown a blanket over her before retiring to his own room. Why she never thought to bring more comfortable sleepwear, he never asked.

Misao moved from the couch, long hair falling down her back. He couldn't help letting his gaze slide down the mass to the cute little rear that was hiding in her cargo jeans. Despite her laments about not having enough of a womanly figure, secretly he always did like that part about her the most.

"Do you feel up to breakfast?" He left the open door and followed her to the kitchen.

She shook her head. "Just coffee if you have it." She curled up on one of the wooden kitchen chairs, one knee pulled up to her chin. "What time did you get up? Usually I'm the one awake first."

He shrugged, opening the cabinet above the microwave to take out the coffee grounds. Habitually measuring out enough for a full pot, he dumped it into the filter before filling the stainless steel container with water. He poured the water into the coffee maker and placed the pot in its holder.

"I didn't feel like sleeping." Aoshi hit the power switch. Or really, he hadn't been able to sleep with the knowledge of her passed out on his living room furniture. It was a secret of his – that having her in his house overnight resulted in his sleep being shallow and restless.

He watched her as she sat at the kitchen table, her mind somewhere out the window. Her usually animated face was still. The bright, eager, look of curiosity was glazed over. It wasn't often she was so unmoving. Not a finger or eyelash stirred as she stared unseeing at the drizzling sky. Her sudden question almost made him jump.

"Aoshi, we've known each other for, what, four years?"

"Five years this summer."

She nodded. "I just thought you should know that I think you're one of my best friends."

He leaned against the kitchen counter and carefully turned his next question over in his head before speaking. "I appreciate it. But I have to admit, there's something that's been bothering me lately."

Aoshi didn't know the full story of her past, but he sensed something that ran much deeper than the always cheerful, always helpful face that she turned to the world. It was easy to just assume she was forever selfless, but really it was human nature to be selfish. He knew that there was a tragedy of some sort – there were hints of it from both their mutual friends and the teasing, all-knowing statements she had made while being overconfidently buzzed on some fruit cocktail. Not that he could begrudge her of anything – he had his own closet full of skeletons.

"You want to know why I come here so often." She paused to rethink her words. "No, you want to know why I come here with the intents that I have."

Her statement made him blink. "Well, yes actually. I've not said anything till now, but I think you and I have shared enough with each other that you can tell me what's going on."

Blue eyes focused abruptly on him. Anger stiffened her shoulders. "What's going on? Nothing – we're just hanging out."

The sudden change in her attitude took him momentarily by surprise, but he didn't let it distract him. He sensed a shield being thrown, not answers.

"Misao, I know that you don't like beer, but you bring it over." He pushed away from the counter and turned to fill two mugs with fresh coffee. "Not only the fact that you bring beer to my house, but you stay the night. The others want to know what's going on between us, and I can't give them an honest answer. What _is_ going on?"

He dropped a splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar into her cup before taking them to the table. She took it with a short grumble, "Well it's none of their business."

He only waited, knowing that the silence would speak louder than any question he could formulate. Aoshi watched her fingers slowly stir her coffee spoon. She was lost again inside her thoughts. He was struck with the impulse to gather her small frame into his arms and let her find herself in his arms. He was attracted – that much was non-negotiable. Even hard headed Sanosuke had pointed it out during one of their outings to a club one night. Aoshi wanted to make their friendship more, but he also knew that something was holding them both back. He was fairly certain that she was aware of his hopes as well, but she had chosen to ignore them.

Yet lately things had slowly been shifting. Trained to pick up the smallest details, he had carefully orchestrated his own actions to compliment hers and the dance was changing.

He had seen it in the small, hidden question in her eyes after they shared a laugh among friends. He had felt it in the casual, accidental touch. He had heard it in the innocent requests of companionship. Yet there was some kind of fear that screened out any other advancement. Whatever it was, it was something that only she could break free from before any other progress with the present could be made.

He wondered what she had wanted, what were the things she had been denied and most likely told herself to be happy with. Had she put up a fight? He found himself hoping she had. Turning his gaze to his own cup of coffee, he took a sip.

Her voice broke into his introspection.

"Aoshi, I am sorry for acting so strange. I just can't think of anywhere else to go. I can't stand being alone, but none of the others will simply let me be."

"Yet you come to me – are still Misao, and most of the time, you won't let _me_ be. Where's the logic in that?"

She had the grace to look embarrassed but he brushed it aside.

"We all have a history, Misao." He watched the rainfall in the reflection in his cup. "I have one that I'm not very proud of, and I gather that you do as well." He felt her question before she voiced it. "But I don't want to live in the past. I've done enough of that."

He let her digest that information. The rain was slowing outside and the dripping tree outside the kitchen window looked refreshed. It wasn't long before she took a gulp of her coffee and sighed, "What if I just can't seem to get over it? I try. I really do, but there are some things that will never leave me alone."

"You learn to live with it. You seem to do well for the most part. Then Spring comes and you're here."

"I come," her reply was shaky. "I want to come here because I feel safe. I feel like this is where I can be me – no matter how strange that may be."

"You shouldn't go anywhere else." He startled himself with the vehemence in his voice. When her bright blue eyes locked on his, he braced himself. "I think you know that sometimes my thoughts don't follow along a merely friendly line. I've seen a lot, I've heard a lot, but I haven't been able to find a way…"

Misao set her coffee cup on the table with a sharp clunk. The liquid inside splashed over the edge and onto her hand, but she ignored it. Her eyes locked on his.

"I trusted someone once, a long time ago. I gave them everything. I thought it would be forever, but I was shot in the back. The thing that burns me the most is that I lived with knowing the guy had a second girl, but never had the guts to tell me himself."

"And you let him do that to you?"

Misao pushed herself away from the table and snapped, "I never let him do anything – it just happened. It happened and it hurt. I trusted him and waited for a straight-up confession that never came."

She brought her coffee-stained hand to her mouth as she moved past him to the kitchen. He put an arm out to stop her.

"Misao, at the risk of sounding rather callous, don't you think it might be time to let it go?"

She refused to look at him. "I am pathetic that way. Besides, no one else cares enough to push past the past." She gave a short laugh, but it was more of a short bark of self-disgust. "And I've tried to change. Really… when I am here, I feel like I could almost do it all over again…"

Aoshi dropped his arm and let her go. She immediately went to the sink and began washing her hands. She ran her hands repeatedly over one another under the water long after the soap had been flushed away. When she finally did turn off the water, she rubbed her wet hands over her face in a quick birdbath. Aoshi silently crossed the room and handed her a clean kitchen towel. Speaking into the cloth, Misao asked,

"So, what's your story?"

"My story?"

"You said you had something you've gotten over." Her face came out of the towel and she blinked at his sudden nearness. He couldn't help feeling a bit of pride at the light pinkness that spread over her cheeks. "I told you mine, it's only fair that you tell me yours."

He smiled teasingly. "Well, my story isn't as melodramatic as a failed romance." He stoically took the punch to his shoulder. "But I was once a gangster."

A hesitant smirk crept to his friend's mouth. "You're joking right?"

"I would never joke about this sort of thing."

"A gangster? From where? What did you do?"

Aoshi frowned turned away. "I was the boss for a short while – a very short while. But I didn't like it, so I arranged for a replacement."

He could feel her eyes tracing his face.

"You were a crime boss? Have you served time?"

"Yes."

Her eyes widened. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

He couldn't bring himself to answer that. After a long, heavy silence Misao dropped the towel on the kitchen counter and put her hands on her hips.

"You make me feel extremely lame with my moping around here. Who else knows? Kenshin? Sano? Everyone but me?"

"Only the guys know. They've covered for me for a lot longer than you'd think."

She took a step back to lean against his fridge. "And this… maybe thing going on – what is that to you?"

Aoshi smiled at that – an answer he could give without hesitation. "It means I have a chance at a true life and not this dreary day-to-day routine."

Misao raised an eyebrow. "So this is entertainment?"

She laughed at his startled face. "I'm just kidding. I know you don't mean it that way, but I couldn't resist."

He let himself smile back, but refused to be diverted from their topic. He approached her carefully, noting her stiffening with each step.

"Misao, I like you. I've liked you for some time. But I waited – worried that the secrets we keep meant that we were doomed to remain only as friends." He looked down into wide and unsure blue eyes. "But you tease me. It's been about two years since I've stretched my tolerance levels to their maximum."

He leaned in, his breath teasing the fine hairs on the side of her neck. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, surrounded in a glass box." He smiled, though she couldn't see it. "I'm going to break it open one of these days."

He could almost feel her swallow nervously.

Her voice trembled. He knew she hated sounding weak, but took it as a sign of trust. "Would you want it so damaged? I mean, like you said – everyone has secrets. I'm not sure I want to know all of yours, but mine are so immature and I still can't get over them."

"I've left the past. I respect history, but it is still in the making." Aoshi let his hands drift down to gently grasp her waist. "May we start with a little gesture of faith?"

Misao glanced up with a bit of her old nerve. "I think that we might be pushing things as far as they can go for one day."

He released her with a short nod. She stepped away from him and from the fridge. He watched her stride purposely to the couch and gather her light jacket where it had fallen sometime the night before. Her motions were jerky, habitual. She paused, looking out of the window one more time. The rain had stopped.

"Aoshi, I think I can accept the fact that you were a gangster. I don't think you've brought that life here. But I need to think things over."

He had left the front door wide open – a beckoning escape. Casually he made his way to intercept her flight path, fingers hooked in his pants pockets.

"Can you keep a secret, Misao?"

Tossing her long black hair over her shoulder, she gave him a dirty look. "You think I'm stupid? Even if the guys know what you just told me, I wasn't even thinking about discussing it with them."

"I appreciate that." Aoshi watched closely as she approached him. "But I was thinking of something else."

Her eyes widened with sudden awareness. She tried to step out of his reach, but his hand darted out to catch her by the arm. He sensed her reflexive anger start to rise, but knew it was only a defense mechanism. To defuse the potential bomb, he pulled her swiftly against him, trapping her hands between their bodies.

"Misao, I just want to ask one more thing."

She squirmed against his hold. "I thought we agreed on waiting."

"I never said that."

"You nodded."

"I changed my mind."

"You can't do that!"

Aoshi chuckled. "Will you just let me kiss you?"

Of all the facial expressions he'd come to know, her one of complete astonishment was something he promised himself that he'd see again someday. He gently pushed her fallen jaw shut before pressing his lips to hers.

Author's Note: This evolved rather awkwardly at the end. Just some more fluffy-poo that backed up in my head. Now it's just a bit of fluff and poo – feel free to review. I miss those little emails 


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